Esperanza and Modern Photos cats 19:20
It is on, of course. It also is in the basement right beneath these two…. A and B, brother and sister. B is the one on the right. They spend most of the winter right there. Not the most social of animals, but quite good at mouse patrol.
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Esperanza and Julie's Pond and Landscapes and Modern Photos connecticut, photography, roads 20:02
Esperanza and Historical Events guestbook, history 19:43
‘Sketch of G.B. Bodwell engaged in playing whist; from the foreground.
July 5, 1879. WWE (William Webster Ellsworth)
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Esperanza and gardening and Landscapes and Modern Photos gardening 23:45
One of the more common problems with projects around here is the ‘everything is Bigger’ one. In the house this cropped up recently with the discovery that the ceiling in one room was not 15 feet, but more like 17 plus to the peak….of course in some other rooms it is less than seven, so no guarantees.
It is fairly typical to hit this with trees, usually when we try to prune them.
The scale of the place is rarely conveyed in photos, since I hate taking photos of people and most people around here have no desire to have their photo taken.
This rare shot helps illustrate scale. (my apologies to the model! ) 🙂 Consider it in relation to the Japanese Maple photo of a few days, which shows the same trees.
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of having to water certain plants in the spring and fall…for the last few years, we have had dry springs and dry falls, which is the worst timing for any plants that are trying to establish themselves or which are prone to desiccation in the winter (the broad leaved evergreens, roses, azaleas, and the like). I am hoping this fog actually turns into rain. .
Although Not hoping that hard, we currently have an almost hole in the roof, as we are putting a skylight in a room. They haven’t actually cut through the outer roof yet, just the interior wood. For those who know the house, it is in Aunt Carlotta’s room on the second floor, south end, two skylights on the east side near the peak. A bit of a trick getting up there…it turns out that the peak is solidly over fourteen feet (i.e. a man standing on the top of an eight foot ladder could only just brush the top of the peak with his fingers). Some ingenious re-use of old lumber and the scaffolding was high enough. As always, size in this house is very deceptive!
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Esperanza 23:28
I had the sorrowful task the other day of digging a grave for a much loved cat who passed entirely unexpectedly. And as might be imagined that got me thinking; if only in the deliberate practice of placing a positive image at the forefront of one’s mind rather than a negative one. Think of the good times! How easy to say! Gah.
But in any case, thinking. One of the things that many casual visitors ask when they come here is: ‘Is it haunted?’ Well, no, not in the sense they mean. Yet, a house like this collects lives around every corner. At least two, perhaps three, people have died in the house; others have lived here all their lives.* Some have faded to mere names now… ‘Daddy Will’s Room’ no one alive now knew him; but the name remains.
As for the animals….they are a veritable army. It takes time, time to not see a certain horse in a certain stall; it will take time to not expect an enthusiastic grey cat behind a door, even though he was a part time guest and not a full time resident. And yet, for all the difficulty that presents in the near future that physical association is a valuable one. That horse? Indeed all those horses? I can walk into the barn and see them, even hear them, so easily just around the corner. In our highly mobile lives we have lost such physical links to memory. When you do not pass by a site which is associated with someone daily, and that person (or animal) is no longer alive; the memories are buried deeply. They may well resurface unexpectedly; but they are not a part of life. When I did not live here for a time those horses, even the ones still living, were distant: they were less real alive, then they are now dead.
This is, as I see it, the value of a grave for those who do not have a ‘family home’. It is a physical reminder in a way that a photograph is not. Many of the cats buried here did not in fact live here. It is no bad thing to recollect them as I walk down that path. I often don’t think of them, of course; but sometimes I do, without intending to do so. I can’t say I mind.
Now I can see how too much memory which is negative, too many lives…. that weight might be unbearable. One would do well to leave then. And one would be very wise to deliberately look to tomorrow; let yesterday come to mind as it will, a welcome guest but not invited.*
When place and memory are linked to the now, a fourth dimension, time, is forcibly added to one’s existence in a very physical way. We carry the understanding of that dimension, of time, within us; but the physical presence makes it that much stronger. Indeed, strong enough to almost be a presence, if not a ghost. Not constant, of course, but there around the shifting corner of the mind’s eye. A great army of ghosts. A deep richness that time, that grief, and life alone can bring.
*Before the family bought it there may have been others. And as always, a lovely embellishment: some one was murdered here! Well, no, probably not…at least there is no record of it. Embellishment, almost as popular as ‘George Washington slept here!’
*I might add, the person or animal need not have died to be remembered in a place; they need simply to be physical absent.
Esperanza and Landscapes and Modern Photos photography 18:09
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Esperanza and Historical Events letters 22:16
I haven’t done a letter excerpt from Julie and Morris in months, so here is a particularly fine passage from Julie, April 26, 1857:
“Now Dearest if you reach home once more in safety, as God grant you may, I will try if I can to make you happier than I have ever done. My boy, I hope the romance of your first love has not quiet died out. If so I must be in fault, for it ought to live always. I love you with the same kind of passionate fondness as I did at first. I feel the same wild thrill of pleasure when your image rises before me and I sit musing. Your voice has still the magic spell that held me and led me long ago almost against my better judgement to stay near you and listen to your words. I sit now as then, and ponder your dear ways….*….You inspired the first poetry of love I ever wrote and that bright star is still the brightest, and the dearest that shines in my Heavens.”
*It is a private love letter, nothing explicit but private indeed, and your editor is feeling old fashioned!
Esperanza 17:54
to have too many Bibles? We have the space, of course, and for a number of reasons, my answer is no. Still, if there was anything that is a more emphatic statement of generations (until the late 20th century) I can’t think of it. Each person had their personal Bible. Each individual’s Bible, on their death, has ended up here. Then there are the ones in a multitude of languages: all of the major European, and several of the major Asian; and then the different translations….
I ought to count them, just for the laugh factor. Five feet of shelf? Not counting concordances and Books of Common Prayer? Might be a bit high, perhaps four. Then again, I’m looking at five versions right now!*
*one KJV, one New English, one Revised Standard, one in Greek, one in Spanish, and one in French
Esperanza and Modern Photos photography 10:37
Fall always produces some rather nice ones around here….
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Acair Fearann 